


Bleasure

by Cirilla9



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Dubious Consent, Fluff and Angst, Heartbreak, M/M, Sex for Favors, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unresolved Emotional Tension, in that order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 21:50:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16049249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cirilla9/pseuds/Cirilla9
Summary: Self-indulgent, lacking creativity description of THAT scene from the manga. Because it deserves all the appreciation and here is my humble contribution.





	Bleasure

**Author's Note:**

> May contain spoilers if you haven't read newest available chapter yet. In that case go read that breathtaking moment at mangafox!

Mikhail still couldn’t believe it was actually happening. He had made an offer, mostly out of sheer habit of flirting on default, fully expecting it to be refused or, more likely, haughty ignored. Yet Feilong had said yes.

Now Mikhail watched the world’s most beautiful person disrobing before him, loosening his robes methodically; afraid to come closer and with a touch break the delicate structure of a dream he had found himself in.

He was prompted into action when Feilong glanced over his shoulder at him, with something akin to a challenge on his stunning face. _What are you waiting for?_ , his dark eyes seemed to ask. And Mikhail’s heart clenched at that, because it was not a look of a lover but of a business partner, waiting for the transaction to be over. Because that was exactly what it was: a trade, an exchange of goods, Feilong’s body for Asami’s safety.

It hurt to see Feilong placing himself in such a vulnerable position for someone who will not even acknowledge his sacrifice. And Mikhail was to take the executioner’s role. He was aware he should refuse the unwilling gift, never take what was offered not out of genuine desire but rather based on a blackmail, closer to rape than consensual sex. If he was a better person, maybe he would.

Although he couldn’t. He was not used to denying himself any pleasure and he had craved Feilong for so long. Perhaps this was his one and only chance to have him, to be with the man of his dreams. So he will take it when he can, even if it's not exactly how he wished it to be.

Mikhail came closer and embraced the fragile, smaller body from behind, locking Feilong in his arms.

“You would go this far for Asami’s sake?” He tried to look into Feilong’s face, tilting his chin toward himself to guess some of his feelings yet Feilong just closed his eyes.

When he opened them, his gaze was composed and distant, just like his tone, voicing the obvious lie.

“My actions are for my own benefit.”

Mikhail pushed him onto the bed, not quite letting out of his hands, slowing their fall. He landed above half-naked Feilong, pinning his wrists to the bed.

“You should be more honest. Ahh, or do you want me to make you more honest?”

Feilong glared at him, lying beneath him, with his gorgeous hair spilled on the mattress. His face was defiant but not so cold anymore.

Mikhail couldn’t resist the dazzling beauty any longer and leaned in to kiss the white svelte neck. Feilong arched and Mikhail couldn’t quite tell if it was into his touch or an attempt to get away. All he knew was that he was holding the man he had long desired, petting, stroking and caressing the flawless expanse of his body.

He abandoned one of Feilong’s wrist in order to touch more of his skin, pulling the slender waist closer to himself. And when Feilong writhed under his kisses admonished to the smooth ivory chest, all the thoughts of truths and lies fled Mikhail’s head. All that mattered was the consciousness of finally having Feilong under his hands, his lips.

He covered Feilong’s flat breast and stomach with kisses, leaving a wet trail down to his groin; lowering Feilong’s pants with one hand at the same time. He caressed the smooth cheek of his rump, gave a sloppy lick to the exposed cock; Feilong was only half-hard yet his erection stirred with interest under Mikhail’s ministrations.

Mikhail drew Feilong’s pants completely off his legs, then returned to his precious lover, sliding his palms through the hairless calves, thighs until he reached Feilong’s groin again. He swallowed his shaft in one go and was rewarded with Feilong lifting off the soft mattress. He bobbed his head, keeping Feilong’s thighs parted with his own chest, hips pinned down with his weigh.

Excess of saliva slickened Feilong’s balls, dropped lower still, where Mikhail brought one hand, gathering the wetness on his fingers, circling Feilong’s entrance. He sucked harder on the now stiff cock and thrust one finger gently inside; Feilong stifled a moan.

Mikhail would look up, he yearned to see if Feilong was flushed, a touch of ruby coloring his pale cheeks… yet his locks obscured any view effectively and he was reluctant to draw them off his face for his hands were occupied elsewhere and he didn’t wish to stop touching Feilong if only for a moment.

With one hand he pinched Feilong’s nipple and felt the answering tremble in the other’s body. He rubbed the erect nub, massaged the delicate skin around. At the same time he tried to keep the pace of the blowjob even. The movements of his other hand’s finger matched the licks of his tongue.

When Feilong trashed under him, Mikhail smirked around his cock and repeated his finger’s push at just the same angle. Feilong gasped, writhing in Mikhail’s loose grip. Mikhail was tempted to make him come like that but quickly discarded the idea; he wanted Feilong at the height of his arousal when he took him.

So instead he let go of Feilong’s leaking cock, withdrew his hand and sat up. There was a tad darker shade coloring his beautiful partner’s cheeks, he noticed with satisfaction as he shook his hair out of his eyes.

Mikhail reached to the nightstand without getting out of bed and produced a lube from one of the drawers. Feilong observed him without one word, dark eyes glaring at him from under the long lashes. He aimed at keeping his annoyed look, yet pupils dilated from desire ruined the intended effect. Still he made no move toward his one night partner.

Mikhail wasn’t about to complain, he could take the initiative. He could do anything Feilong demanded of him, especially if the request was as sweet as this, he thought, squeezing out some lube, about to prepare Feilong without haste, taking his time as he did teasing him earlier.

He was startled at Feilong snatching the package from him suddenly, his move combat quick and precise.

“Give me this,” Feilong said, shedding the rumpled shirt that was last piece of cloth on him. “You slow things up unnecessarily.”

“Of course, your wish is my command,” Mikhail said exaggeratedly and could see Feilong refraining himself from rolling his eyes.

He removed his own clothes swiftly – his shirt already pulled loose from the trousers by the nimble fingers of girls he’d hung out with before Feilong had arrived – and laid down on the bed. It allowed him to continue to admire Feilong undistractedly and hid his own back from the view. He usually chose the position that didn't expose his scars to the partner. Not that he had a particular problem with it (he wouldn’t be himself if he had any complaints of how he’d looked) but few things spoiled atmosphere quite as much as an abrupt question _how you got these, man?_ _Were you flogged?_

And right now it seemed especially wrong to confront such a mutilated tissue with all Feilong’s flawlessness.

So he reclined on the bed comfortably, head propelled onto one arm and watched Feilong prepare himself for him. He wiped the remnants of lube from his hand on his own cock, stroking it lazily as he admired the beauty before him.

Feilong’s supple form balanced on both knees, thighs spread for stability exposed temptingly hard length of his cock, darker than the alabaster skin of the rest of his body as he reached with one hand behind himself, applying the lubrication. The backside was unfortunately hidden from Mikhail’s sight, so was Feilong’s face, obscured by the curtain of his jet black hair. Maybe he looked down to oversee his own treatments or maybe it was simply a modesty of not wanting to be watched as he touched himself in someone else’s presence.

He finished all too quickly for Mikhail’s aesthetics sense and not quickly enough for his cock, pointing at the ceiling, throbbing in anticipation.

Feilong crawled upon him and it was one of the most breathtaking views Mikhail had ever experienced in bed. He reached toward Feilong’s waist as the seeming incarnation of succubus positioned himself above Mikhail’s straining cock. He supported him with a sure grip as Feilong lowered himself down.

Mikhail groaned as Feilong sank onto him, finally losing some of his tightly maintained to this moment composure if the noises that escaped him were any indication. He raised himself up then fell down, slowly getting used to the length and width inside him; slim hands dug shakily into Mikhail’s chest.

Mikhail didn’t rush him. As far as he was concerned, the slow lovemaking could take them all night. And he was going to savor every moment of it.

It was still hard to encompass that Feilong, literally the most beautiful human being that existed, was with him. Even now as he moved up and down, riding Misha’s cock. It was his dreams coming true. Hair of the color of the midnight sky swayed with Feilong’s each sensuous movement. Skin fair like crafted from moonlight itself glistened with the thinnest layer of sweat.

“What a great view,” mused Mikhail.

He felt like the happiest man in the world, having Feilong like this; his cock buried time and again into the well-lubricated heat of that stunning, lean body. It was almost perfect, only-

“Don’t turn away,” he urged. “Face me.”

He grabbed Feilong’s chin to tilt his bowed head upward and in that moment the spell of the night broke. For on the beautiful face framed by the dark hair was not the image of pure bliss, of voluptuous abandon; instead there was an expression of sheer anger. Feilong was clearly displeased he was doing it with Mikhail at all or maybe just by the fact Mikhail interrupted him sexual fantasy of his own – undoubtedly one about Asami.

The bubble they were in shattered – or rather his own personal illusion as Feilong apparently didn’t share his affectious approach – into thousand sharp pieces; the gentle fantasy replaced by a harsh reality. The raging jealousy returned, along with unspecified anger: at Feilong, at Asami, at himself maybe, he didn’t know but the way to unleash it was only one now.

He seized Feilong by the wrist and with one powerful tug flipped their places. His unexpected movement took Feilong by surprise, so he didn’t put up any resistance. He probably wouldn’t protest if he saw it coming as well. He was giving himself over, fully at the mercy of another man, fulfilling his part of the deal, as the bargain was the only thing that interested him in the whole ordeal. And he kept reminding Mikhail that, even now, glancing over his shoulder at the approaching figure of the larger man.

“Our agreement… Don’t forget it, Mikhail. If you betray me, I’ll kill you.” That his voice was a little panting, sentences torn into gasps bore little comfort when placed against the content of his words.

“I know,” said Mikhail calmly but thrust into him viciously.

A pained moan escaped Feilong’s lips. Mikhail felt a twinge of guilt at hurting Feilong so but at least this way maybe he wouldn’t think of Asami. Mikhail would have gladly fucked any thought about the other man from his lover’s head; any thought at all if needed.

And tomorrow, when Feilong would ache, he would think of him and no one else.

With that in mind he set up a brutal pace, his movements rough and punitive, as he drove into the tight passage. He held Feilong by his narrow hips, not touching these luscious hair – it felt like a crime to tug at them in anger.

Skin slapped skin as Mikhail shoved himself in balls-deep; whines were forced out of Feilong despite him trying to keep his mouth sealed shut as Mikhail rammed into him. _Are you still able to imagine your Asami?_ , wondered Mikhail maliciously. Even if not for the stifled sobs, he could tell Feilong was in pain by the tense hunch of his shoulders.

He panted in effort and arousal himself now; emotional satisfaction turning more primitive by the moment till the point where he wasn’t able to form conscious thoughts and heat and friction were the only sensations that mattered.

He adjusted his grip on Feilong, taking one hand off the jutting hipbone in favor of sliding it between his partner’s legs; he tugged at Feilong’s cock uncoordinatedly until it jerked, throbbed in his hand and spilled its essence. He heard Feilong cry out in the background of his own groans and felt full bodily shudder everywhere: under his hands, his chest, on the upside of his thighs, all around his cock, which twitched and shot its own load.

World disappeared momentarily into a blazing white of nothingness. When he regained his senses, he became aware that he laid on top of Feilong. He pulled himself reluctantly off his lover no sooner than Feilong shifted under him uncomfortably.

Even lying on the side, he still nuzzled Feilong’s silk soft hair, marveling at its texture and breathing in an orchid scent. Scooching the lithe body with an appreciative gaze, Mikhail noticed his fingers’ shape beginning to darken on Feilong’s waist. Though erotic the sight was, it marred the unblemished white porcelain of the skin; as if he had defiled a sanctity.

He regretted now venting his anger on him.

He acted no different from Yuri, blaming the unfortunate boys that captured his attention. He didn’t like to think of himself similar to his uncle in this way. But there was no way to repair it now; he would not apologize least he would look weak in Feilong’s eyes and Feilong valued strength. They all did in the harsh world they lived in.

When Feilong moved away from him and got up, Mikhail first thought he was going to clean himself but soon he grasped his companion’s real intention as Feilong put on his shirt and started to button it up as mechanically as he had earlier disrobed. Mikhail observed in dumbstruck silence as pants, then vest followed.

“So you're gonna leave me now, when all's done?” He squeezed finally through clenched throat. He coughed and added more nonchalantly, “How cold of you to escape right away.”

Feilong deigned him an icy glance, donning up his collar.

“What, you expected an after-play cuddle?” He put on his suit jacket, smoothed any wrinkle on his clothes with his hands and left the room.

“I did,” whispered Mikhail to the closed door.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to drownedssoul from tumblr, without whom this fanfic wouldn't come into existence.


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